


Hold Up Your Badge

by Maidenjedi



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maidenjedi/pseuds/Maidenjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judy and Nick are in charge of a murder investigation, and find there is more at stake than either could have guessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written while listening to copious amounts of Frank Sinatra. Inspired by, but not based on, James Ellroy's L.A. Confidential. Will be about 12 chapters.

The problem was, this was a cop bar, and ZPD's finest were out in force.  The holiday season had begun, spirits were high.  Everyone was in a great mood, anticipating an easy couple of weeks at least while hibernation kicked in and the denizens of this fine city huddled indoors, not at all keen to make trouble.

It was the best of all seasons, and the lone fox on the force was far from joining in the merriment.  Judy wasn't feeling much merrier herself, but better to put on a show and save the holiday blues for her apartment. 

She was trying to convince her partner to do the same.

"Just one more, fluff'n'stuff.  Then I'll call it a night, cross my heart."

He wasn't drunk, just pissed off, so she might forgive the excessively cute nickname. Besides, Judy understood exactly how he felt, even if she wasn't going to show it off in a bar with all her peers around.

"Nick, it's late.  It was a long day, tomorrow'll be longer, and I need you alert."

"Mmm.  Alert for speeding tickets and petty theft.  Think we can stop a ring of cherry-chapstick thieves, or I don't know, some kids knocking over lemonade stands..."

She rolled her eyes.  "It's not that bad, you know."

"No, Carrots, it is that bad." Nick slurred his words just slightly, which Judy believed was an exaggeration on his part.  She rolled her eyes and twitched her ears toward the door.

“Come on, fox.  Let’s call it a night.”

Acquiescing with a slight growl, he slid off the stool and slapped money down on the bar.  He didn't wait for acknowledgment, but turned toward the door to walk out.

A wolf whistled and the cat calls started as Judy trailed Nick out the door.  He was better at this than she was; under the usual circumstances, he'd turn and wave, wink at Francine, tell Clawhauser not to expect them in early the next day.  And once outside, Nick would see Judy home and they'd part ways.

Tonight, Nick stopped and looked back at the loudest of the jokers, a lieutenant they didn't know well.

"Yeah?" he said, in a challenging tone that stood Judy's fur on end.  Before Nick could say anything else, Judy grabbed him around the waist and waved her free hand at the leopard. 

"Gotta get him home to bed.  Night, all!" she said lamely, though the reaction was just what it always was, and she pulled Nick out of there with only some difficulty.

Outside, Nick pushed her off and stuffed his hands in his pockets.  He stalked off in the direction of her apartment, not waiting for her, but she caught up easily.  Stony silence settled over them as they walked.

It had started a couple of weeks back.  Bogo had benched them both after a bad call in Tundratown.  They had been the closest team; it was assault and battery on a polar bear in heat, and it had gotten ugly fast.  Nick used his taser and missed the perp, hit the victim, who was threatening to sue. 

After a week on leave for Nick and desk duty for Judy, they'd come back to daytime street patrol.  Nick was bored out of his mind, when it came down to it.  It was winter, and the worst street crimes on their beat really were petty theft and the occasional speeding ticket.  Judy was taking it in stride, at least comparatively speaking (if she was spending an extra hour - or three - in the gym at night, who was to say she wasn't just training hard to keep warm?).

Nick felt responsible and ridiculous for having discharged any weapon in such a confused setting; he knew they should have held back and called for back-up sooner.  And Judy felt that the whole thing was just an accident, one of those things, and it would clear up soon enough.

They were several blocks away from the bar, almost at her door.  It had to be now.  "Nick," Judy started.

"Nope, Carrots.  Ain't gonna go over it again.  We both know who effed up, and why we're on the cherry-chapstick beat.  I'm not cut out for real cop work and you damn well know it."

And that was taking the entire thing so far out of proportion that Judy really had to stop it now.

She hopped ahead of him, a move she knew he hated.  She put both paws on his chest and pushed to stop him walking. 

"Cheese and _crackers_ , that's enough, Nick!  It isn't the end of your career, it was one call.  It could've happened to any of us.  Heck, you remember Trevino two months back, that shooting he got in the middle of.  He was actually suspended over it, too, and you never saw him taking himself to task the way you are.  We'll be back on a real beat soon, just...."

Before she could get another word out, they heard a muffled gunshot, and glass shattering in a window across the street. Another two shots, and what sounded like a scuffle away from the storefront.  Judy reached for her sidearm; Nick's was in his locker, but he pushed Judy behind him anyway, eyes darting around, seeking the shooter.

An alarm was going off, ringing so loudly Judy couldn't hear herself think.  Nick’s advantage in heightened night vision was just about their only advantage and Judy knew he was taking in more than she was.

"What do you see?"

He shook his head.  Nothing yet.

They weren't on duty, but both had their badges, and Judy was armed.  They had no radio and they could use their cells to call the station, but the alarm company would already have alerted the department. 

Judy pushed past Nick, taking the lead, and he followed, offering no opposition. They had to move, assess the damage, and see if anyone was hurt.  They pushed through the broken front door and to the back of the store, out into the alley.  Through the din, Judy thought she could make out shouts, two voices.  She stopped suddenly, thinking, and Nick almost tripped over her. 

"That way!" she shouted after a heartbeat, and sprinted to their left.

A block down, Nick and Judy spotted them, two grizzly bears, both packing heat.  Judy aimed her weapon and yelled, "STOP!  I am an officer and I’m armed, I said STOP or I will SHOOT!"

One of the grizzlies shot haphazardly in their direction.  Nick felt a bullet whizz past his ear, and he froze.   

The grizzlies went down on all fours and pounded the pavement toward a large van.  They got in and were gone before Judy could get good aim, but she tried anyway, firing off her own shot into the night.

"Damn!" she said, breathing hard.  She holstered her gun and turned back to collect Nick. 

He was breathing rather hard himself, and looked down at her with an odd expression.

"You okay?" she said, squinting up at him.  She reached out for his arm then curled her paw in, as though thinking better of it. 

Nick nodded, that expression still on his face.  He was concentrating on Judy's face, she realized, and she reached out for him again, paw on his forearm.

"Hey, it's okay.  I'm...we're...it's okay."

He shook his head, and reached out and touched the tip of her ear.  “It…you….”

She reached up now herself.  No blood, but a bullet had grazed her and left an angry trail across her left ear, shearing off the fur.  Nick’s paw curled around hers. 

“Hey,” she repeated, softer now.  “I’m fine.”

They stood there for several minutes, as snow began to fall.  Nick was the one to start moving again, but he would not let go of her, until Judy pulled away as firmly as she could manage, and reminded him, they still had a job to do.

-

They went back to the shop.  The alarm was still blaring, but no other cops were yet on the scene. 

Amid the broken glass and blown-apart merchandise - this had been a pawn shop of probably ill-repute at best, given the dated look to much of what remained - there was a body.  An older kangaroo, head still bleeding.

"No signs of robbery, though," Nick said, picking through to the cash register.  It was closed tight.  Behind the counter stood a safe, also untouched, and the alarm control panel.  Nick disabled it to kill the noise; the lights were blinking in confirmation that an alert had been set to law enforcement.

"The grizzlies had nothing on them that I could see.  Did you?"

"No," Judy replied, shaking her head.  She leaned over the kangaroo, careful not to touch him.  "Does he look familiar to you at all?"

Nick came over to stand behind her, and peered down.  Internally, he groaned; he not only knew the kangaroo’s face, he knew his name.  The reasons for that being what they were, scenes from a past he was constantly trying to live down, Nick lied.  "A bit.  Can’t place him though, can you?”

Judy frowned and shook her head. 

Sirens blared; the cavalry had arrived.  Both Judy and Nick turned toward the door, paws in the air and badges displayed as their colleagues descended. 

Colleagues of no less prestige than Chief Bogo himself, and his new number two, Gerald McHorn.

"Chief?" Judy said disbelievingly as McHorn stepped over the mess and searched the room.  He looked back at Bogo after a moment and grunted the all-clear. 

"Not to worry, Hopps.  I was at the station when the call came in.  The officers have mostly dispersed for the night and I was available.  It's not that out of the ordinary."

She knew it wasn't, she remembered him at the Natural History Museum.  But surely this was much more routine than that?  She shook it off and nodded at him.  "Sure, sir."

Bogo stared at the body on the floor, his face darkening.  McHorn stood apart, still taking stock of the damage, and finally Bogo told him to go back to the cruiser and call for an ambulance and a forensics team. 

"Detective Grambling, too?"

Bogo shook his head. "No, we'll get what we can first before handing it over to vice.  I don't think this was drugs," said the chief, frowning.  He turned to Judy.  "Tell me what you know."

She and Nick broke down the events for him, Nick more hesitant to talk than Judy.  He was nervous, especially given that they hadn't been on duty when it all went down.  Judy figured he was worried they’d get a further suspension or worse.  But Bogo gave his approval to all they'd done.

And Nick was far from worried about his job alone.

"You were in the right place at the wrong time.  We protect the community, that's what we do.  Don't get wound up, Wilde."

A very different tune than the one Bogo had struck the morning after the Tundratown incident, thought Nick.  But he'd take it.

-

"Forensics found grizzly hair at the scene, and the paw prints found at the scene are being matched to an international database.  Officers Hopps and Wilde are to be commended for their initiative, and will lead the task force investigation.  Any questions?"

The morning roll call felt empty without a few of the larger mammals, but it was still a packed room.  Murmurs of assent moved through the assembly, and Bogo went on to name the rest of the task force and assign the daily rounds.  They were dismissed, and Judy and Nick asked to go to Bogo's office for instructions before the first task force meeting.

Judy felt her chest swell slightly at the distinction of leading a task force - it was a lot of responsibility, and after all, she was only a year into the job.  Her partner was less thrilled, and not a little confused by the chief's change in attitude toward him.  Not that anyone would know about that, even Judy. 

They stood before Bogo's desk, waiting for him to look up from his written messages.  He put one of them aside with a deep sigh, then looked down gravely at ZPD's greenest pair.

"I'm giving you this assignment with some reservations.  You need to know that up front."

Judy's ears drooped an imperceptible millimeter.  There was no change at all in Nick's stance.

"I know you've proven yourselves over and over again, no one is questioning that.  This case, however, appears to go in directions we don't usually go down.  It may well be, if the suspects turn up on the international database and they aren't local, we'll have to turn this over to the ZBI or someone else.  And maybe neither of you know," he paused, looking at Judy exclusively now, "that kangaroo was a former ZPD officer."

Their faces contorted into near-identical frowns.  "I thought I recognized him.  Malcolm Kelly," Judy said.  "He was in the news a lot about ten years ago, even in Bunnyburrow.  He took down the Mick Riordan gang, right, sir?"

"He was the officer in charge, yes.  Retired not long after."

"Why was he at a pawn shop at midnight, so close to Christmas?" said Nick.  "Seems like someone of that stature would have better places to be."

Bogo shrugged, and handed a file to Nick.  "That's your department now, Wilde.  Now, I've assigned you two a squad of four, as you know, and you're familiar with all of the officers.  You'll report directly to me on this."

Another surprise.  Judy schooled her face to keep off any confusion or, yes, she would admit, excitement.  Protocol dictated that a senior officer, preferably a lieutenant, oversee special assignments like this one.  But to report right back to Bogo?  This was huge.

As if to confirm, Bogo told them to go, and held Judy back for a moment.  "Hopps, if this goes well, you'll be allowed to take the detective exam early."

Her nose twitched in excitement. She'd already made sergeant, and that had come early, too.  She didn't expect such distinction for what she considered her duty, but wow, she would not say no.

"And Nick?  I mean, Officer Wilde?"

Bogo waved her off.  "We'll see."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Nick slipped into the car with a bag of greasy food and two large drinks, and yeah, he probably slammed the door.

"Damn it, Nick," snapped Judy.  It was uncharacteristic, but she was wired, tapping her fingers on her knee in a frantic rhythm. Nick knew well, this only came of deep annoyance.  She drew in a breath to continue berating him and he cut her off.

"Calm down, Carrots.  This isn't exactly a quiet neighborhood, no one will pick out one specific car door sound from another."  As if to punctuate Nick's statement, a door slammed at the brownstone down the block, and a pit bull howl went up in protest, setting off a car alarm somewhere on the street.

Judy sighed and rubbed her eyes before taking the foam cup offered by her partner.

"Iced tea?"

"You know it."

She sipped and grimaced at the amount of sugar, but said nothing. She tapped her foot, stretched her legs out, squirmed in her seat.  Judy was sure they'd slipped into a sloth-run time zone, but it wasn’t just the interminable sitting down that was causing her so much angst.  "Six days, and nothing.  We have no witnesses, not so much as a jam cam sighting.  How did no one see a damned thing?"

Nick was tired, and punchy, but his mood was nothing to Judy's.  They had set up a rotating stakeout for their team, and this was their second shift.  He'd known before the night began that he would spend it reviewing the minute details of what Judy was calling their heretofore failure.

"Not only that," she continued, picking at their mutual frustration like the blackened scab it was becoming, "but the paw prints.  How...I mean, _how_  is there _nothing_  on these guys?"

Nick shrugged, coughed up the answer he'd given multiple times in the last several days. "They haven't been caught before.  It isn't that unheard of."

"No, no, there's gotta be more."

Judy chewed through her straw and Nick was ready with the second.  They kept a stash in the console of their cruiser, but since they were using a non-descript Catillac, he'd picked up a bunch at the sandwich place.  Judy broke from her stony reverie long enough to give Nick a grateful smirk.

"You know me too well."

"Yep, that's pretty much the truth."

They settled into silence, watching the neighborhood near the original crime scene with interest.  It wasn't a loud neighborhood, Nick was wrong about that.  It was eerily quiet, especially for New Year's Eve.  A lot of the buildings were abandoned, some in use for likely disreputable activity.  The pawn shop, now marked off with police tape, was one of maybe half a dozen businesses in a four-block square.

Nick knew the area.  Hell, he knew most of Zootopia, whether from cons or from just being a native, it was difficult to really tell.  He knew this area particularly well, and he knew Judy knew it.  More than that, he’d known Kelly, not well but in passing.  He knew Kelly’d been _involved_ , for lack of a better word, in a scene Nick tried to steer well clear of.

Judy had no clue.  She had a starry look on her face when she’d realized who it was, a kind of star struck look, and no wonder.  In his day, Kelly had been the face of the ZPD, taking down the biggest crime ring in the city.  A kid who wanted to be a cop would have looked up to Kelly.

Nick scratched his ear, cleared his throat.  “Carrots.”

“Mm?”

He had no idea what to say, how to put it.  She would get…well, yes, she would get emotional, and he would know absolutely no way to comfort her that wouldn’t be a lie.

So he brought up something else that had been on his mind.

“Isn’t it weird, what we’re doing?”

Judy raised an eyebrow.  “I suppose so.  Watching empty streets and alleys waiting for a big bad to emerge from the shadows – not exactly a common way for two mammals to spend a major holiday.”

Nick admired her snark, but pressed forward.  “No, I mean, you, heading up a task force, barely a year on the force.”

Her nose twitched in irritation at that, and her ears stood stock still and upright.  “Oh?”

Damn it, he’d hit a nerve.

“You hadn’t thought about it?  Wondered?”  He wondered, that was certain, because there was absolutely no precedent.  Some of the others had been complaining in the male locker room, and they must have wanted Nick to hear, because there was no reason for it otherwise.  Judy Hopps was a huge success for the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, true.  An initiative not a few had thought scrapped when Bellwether was locked up.  And now Bogo was letting her lead a major investigation?

Nick watched Judy’s face and realized, no, it really hadn’t occurred to her to wonder at all.

“Hey, I didn’t mean….”

Judy waved her paw at him, her posture still stiff but her words breezy.  “Oh, sure.  It’s weird, maybe.  But the chief trusts me, us, I mean.  We were there.  He’s got his reasons, you know.”

The air was chill between them as they fell back into silence.  An hour passed, and another was creeping along when Nick spoke up again. 

"Music?" he said, his voice too loud to his own ears.  Judy shrugged, and Nick mockingly shrugged in return before leaning in to flip on the radio.  He searched for a channel that wasn't playing a horribly depressing tune (what was it with Zootopia's disc jockey population, anyway?) before landing on ZPR, which was playing a special tribute to Jerry Voles.

_The very thought of you...._

Nick hummed along, watching his partner in his peripheral vision.  Judy half-heartedly picked at the fried carrot sticks he'd picked up for her, now cold.  She sighed a bit, giving up on the fries, and laid her head back against the seat.  She sang along, so softly, Nick could have been imagining it.

The atmosphere seemed to clear; Judy had relaxed, and Nick didn’t feel as though she would snap at him any moment. 

_...the longing here for you...._

He could do it now, he thought, and when she brushed him off, he could blame the moonlight, the quiet, the holiday.  Just once, and then he'd know what it was like....

"All units, all units, 10-71 at the Veiled Swan, Sahara Square.  Request back-up, suspect at large.  Identified as a male grizzly, armed.  All units, all units..."

Judy started the car.

"Carrots, we're...."

"Not too far away, if we take the side streets and avoid the lights.  Besides, _all units_."  She was fairly bouncing in her seat as she buckled her seat belt.

Hardly missing a beat, her partner did the same.  Nick knew how to pick his battles, and anyway, she looked at him now with a hard, “don’t tell me what I can’t do” gleam in her eyes.

There was no arguing with her now, he knew.  "Drive on, then, milady."

-

They were too late by five minutes, maybe ten.   Del Gato and Fangmeyer were first on the scene, and were escorting the suspect into a cruiser when Judy and Nick arrived.

“Ah, I see we’ve got a regular menagerie responding to this call,” said Grizzoli as Judy ran up to the gaggle of gathered officers.  There were six or seven there, some in uniform, some clearly coming from one party or another.

“We were on the outskirts of Savanna Central, never got an all clear.”  Judy was annoyed by Grizzoli’s amusement, and at the implication in his grin that she’d broken protocol on her own stakeout for whatever this was.

The call had said grizzly, and sure enough, there he was, in Fangmeyer’s cruiser.

“Who was the victim?” said Nick, coming up behind Judy.

“A springbok, dancer at the club across the street.  Happened in the alley.”

The grizzly had been identified by eyewitnesses, several of whom were undergoing questioning by various officers.  Judy pressed Grizzoli for a task, but was rebuffed.  “Let the boys handle this one, Hopps.  We got it.  You and Wilde…why don’t you go on back to HQ, there’ll be more answers later tonight.”

Grizzoli was trying to tell Judy, there was more to this, but she needed to be patient.  She didn’t take the message well, wanted to say something, scream at her colleague about her qualifications and yes, she was just a bunny but she could handle it, and on she would go.  Nick stopped her before she could start, pinching her elbow as he told Grizzoli they would do exactly as he suggested. 

They followed Fangmeyer and Del Gato, Nick behind the wheel, Judy too keyed up to drive.   She thumped her left foot against the dash and mumbled a little, paws to her forehead.

“The Kelly case…” Nick started, knowing exactly what was bothering his partner about what they’d just witnessed.

“Nothing like this.  Back there, there were what, a dozen witnesses lined up to talk?  More hovering on the scene?  A shooting at a nightclub at Sahara Square on New Year’s Eve.  That’s so…no way, not the same at all.”  Judy mumbled most of this to herself, and Nick, used to Judy’s occasional sotto voce introspection, caught the bulk of it.

“Okay, yes, but the grizzly.”

Judy sighed.  “Yeah.”

Grizzlies in winter.  Biology didn’t play so much with their daily routines, but hibernation was a given.  And it was the dead of winter.  Bears slept, or at least ceased the majority of their more raucous tendencies.

“We need to see the prints.”

“Uh-huh.  Think they’ll be a match?”

“I am nearly positive.”

Judy quit thumping her foot, but was still agitated. 

They arrived at the station, having trouble finding a place to park the cruiser.  Even for a holiday, this was a busy precinct.  Judy picked out the chief’s car immediately, pointing it out to Nick.

“All this for a shooting.”

“Mmm.  And Grizzoli thought the bust in Sahara Square was a menagerie,” Nick mumbled.  Judy let out a short “Ha!” of a laugh, and they climbed out of the car to follow their colleagues and the latest of Zootopia’s short-term lock-up residents.

Clawhauser waved them down at the desk; Judy almost looked away purposely, to follow Fangmeyer and Del Gato down to processing, so anxious was she to see the prints.  But Nick took her by the shoulder, guiding her as gently as he could.  They couldn’t involve themselves, not yet.  And Clawhauser was excited, but serious, so rare a sight that neither of them could pass up a chance to find out what was going on.

“I am so glad you guys are back,” Clawhauser all but whispered, surprising both Judy and Nick.  “Looks like they got him!”

Judy’s eyes widened.  “Him who?”

“Your suspect.”

Nick frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“Hopps, Wilde!” Bogo shouted down from the second floor landing.  “In my office!”

Clawhauser mimed a high-five for Judy.  “Great job!”

Confused now on top of everything else, Judy and Nick obeyed the chief, saying nothing to each other about what just took place. 

Bogo was waiting for them outside his office, ushering them in and shutting the door behind him.  The sudden quiet was a relief, to Bogo as much as his officers judging by his look.  He wasn’t in uniform, but a tuxedo with an undone bow-tie; he’d been at a city ball for the New Year, Judy recalled.

“Sir…”

Bogo held up both hooves.  “Before you get started, let me extend my congratulations to you both.”

“Congratulations?” said Judy.  Nick was shocked silent.

“Yes.  The suspect in custody is the same grizzly at the scene of the Kelly murder.  The prints are a match.”

Judy opened her mouth again, and Bogo shook his head.  “It’s over.  We have our suspect.  Fangmeyer will get a confession later tonight, and we’ll press charges in the morning.”

At this point, Nick was practically growling from the confusion he felt.  Judy’s face showed her own internal conflict, but as he watched her, she tamped it down.  The chief’s word was final, nearly law in Judy’s book, and she took what he said at face value.

Nick was astonished.

“Hopps, go on down to processing and see the prints for yourself.  Wilde, you hang back a moment.”  Judy’s ears drooped slightly and she turned to do the chief’s bidding. 

“And Hopps?”

“Yes, Chief?”

“Let’s talk tomorrow about the exam.”

Judy nodded, half-smiling as she met Nick’s eyes, and left the room.

Nick had been alone with Bogo a few times, during his initial interview, and again for the official reprimand for his weapons discharge.  All other times, Judy had been in the room, too, as they took orders or whatever from Bogo.  Never had Nick felt nervous in front of the water buffalo, and now, it wasn’t so much nervous as taken aback, and concerned.

“Sir, that grizzly that Fangmeyer and Del Gato brought in.  The prints are probably only now even being collected, there’s no way anyone here would know for sure that it was the same suspect.”

Nick was surprised Bogo hadn’t interrupted him, because it was the same thing Judy would have said, and Bogo had clearly anticipated her. 

“Wilde, you’ve been here a short time, but long enough to know how things work sometimes.”  Bogo walked around to his chair and pulled it out, using it to hang his jacket and tie.  It was the most disheveled anyone was likely to see their chief in this precinct, Nick realized.  Bogo looked tired now, even a little thin, unless it was the light playing tricks.

“Malcolm Kelly was a valuable member of our team, once.  And still respected.  We have to do our best for him, and you and Hopps have been doing quite well.  But we caught a break tonight.  I’m counting on you to help Hopps see that, too.  We caught a break, and therefore caught our guy.”

Nick frowned, seeing the line of thinking.  It was entirely likely that the suspect downstairs was the same one he and Judy had been looking for.  True, there’d been two grizzlies that night, but even getting one of them meant they could crack the entire thing and catch the other.  With a suspect in custody, they could question him, ascertain motive, and build a case. They were flying blind before.

But even though he could see the logic, he felt a knot in his stomach.  Wasn’t there such a thing as due process?  Conduct rules?  Something was terribly off about all of this.  He’d known it the night Kelly died. 

Bogo was watching Nick carefully, but the fox was still as good as ever at making sure no one could see when they got to him.

“Sure, Chief.  You can count on me.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit behind where I wanted to be by now, but it's coming. Thanks for reading!

Judy stared somewhat disbelievingly at the prints on the sheets in front of her.  On the left she had the prints lifted at the pawn shop; they were incomplete in places, missing a toe and part of a pad, but good enough.  On the right were the prints taken from the suspect tonight; the ink dry already, and of course, complete.  There was no mistaking it; they were indeed a match, and this grizzly had been at the pawn shop, possibly even pulled the fatal trigger on Kelly.

“Too easy,” said Nick in her ear, as he came up behind her.  She didn’t jump, his actions too familiar to startle her.

“Or our lucky day,” she replied, voice more confident than she was feeling. 

“Carrots,” he started, then walked around to the other side of the desk she was sitting at.  He looked her in the eye, and opened his mouth to continue, only to be interrupted by Del Gato’s sudden triumphant roar in the hallway.

Judy did jump at that, and then out of her chair, to see what was happening.  Nick followed, at a somewhat more hesitant pace.

In the hall, Del Gato was no longer roaring, but he was clearly thrilled.  He saw Judy and came over.

“Confession, Hopps!  Con _fess_ ion!  This boyo’s ours for sure, and yours.  We got him.”

Judy listened as Del Gato rattled off the basic facts.  The grizzly’s name was Humphrey Woodlore, according to his driver’s license and own admission.  He claimed to be the shooter at the pawn shop, and he admitted to killing a springbok dancer.  In neither case did he appear to know the names of the victims. 

“Robbery,” Del Gato said, “at the pawn shop and at the Veiled Swan.”

“Nothing was taken from the pawn shop,” Nick piped up.  “Every cent was accounted for.”

Del Gato shrugged.  “Botched, then.  Maybe the alarm went off before he could grab anything.”

Judy spoke up then.  “Not he.  They.  There were two of them that night, we know that.  Forensics collected fur from two distinct bears.”

Del Gato waved that off, too, saying the perp was caught, as far as the law was concerned.  “We have a confession.”  He walked off then, saying he needed to inform the chief and start the paperwork. 

Nick went in the opposite direction, toward the holding cells.

“Nick, where are you going?  We have our own paperwork, you know.”

“You aren’t the least bit put off by any of this, are you?” He rounded on her, voice low.  “Nothing rings even a little false?”

Judy sighed.  “Nick, we have the guy.  He admitted he did it, the prints match.”

“Uh-huh.  And the prints, do you know how they were obtained?”

“Nick…”

“And the confession.  I want to see the bear’s face myself.”  He spun around and continued his march, and Judy went after him, because there was no choice.  Some part of her did wonder, she admitted it.  She wasn’t without suspicion.  But at the same time, Bogo had signed off, he’d told her it was finished. 

She had little reason to doubt her _boss_.

Down at the cells, they found Fangmeyer locking up the interrogation room.  Nick sniffed the air; all he could detect was disinfectant, and his confidence shook ever so slightly.  “All done then?” he said, in a bright voice Judy recognized from his wheedling and cajoling suspects on the street.  A hustler’s tone.

Fangmeyer grinned.  “Wanted a go, did you?”

Nick returned the grin, and Judy visibly recoiled.  “Well, you saw what he did to Kelly.  Man was a frickin’ hero, and to be shot during a petty theft?  Weak.  I wanted to see the ursine son of a bitch for myself.”

The wolf huffed his approval and pointed down the hall.  “Cell four.”  He walked away.  “Don’t be too hard on him, Nicky,” he said over his shoulder, that sick grin still in place.

There were no others in lock-up yet that night; undoubtedly by morning there would be a few to keep the bear company.  Nick came to a stop in front of Woodlore’s cell and motioned for Judy to join him.

The fur on the bear’s wrists was matted from the cuffs; he sported a black eye, a few cuts.  He was sitting up, conscious, but paid them no attention, staring at the floor.  His shoes had been removed, and he was in a county lock-up jumpsuit, free of anything that might tempt an inmate to attempt an escape…or suicide.

Each of them silently took in the scene, drawing their own conclusions. What Nick saw as the likely result of a rough-up in the interrogation room, Judy was seeing as the result of resisting arrest. 

Nick looked down at Judy, eyes imploring her.

“Something is off.”

Judy shook her head.  “Nick, he confessed.”

“Under coercion.”

“You don’t _know that_.”

“Carrots….”

“No, Nick.  Let it go.  At most, we have another suspect we need to look for, this bear’s accomplice.  But you know it won’t matter in court unless we could prove this one wasn’t holding the gun that shot Malcolm Kelly, and even then, his word will carry weight with a jury.”

She saw Nick wanted to argue, to protest.  They stared each other down for a full minute.

And Nick backed down.  His ears laid back, his posture casual, he said, “Okay, Carrots.  Okay.”

He walked away, leaving her standing at the cell door, wondering what kind of victory this was to leave her so sick and shaken.

-

Judy called Nick as he was on his way to the station the next morning.  She’d gone early, to the bear’s bail hearing.

She didn’t waste time with small talk.  “He made bail.”

Judy sounded irritated, and Nick couldn’t really blame her.   There had been no night court judge on duty because of the holiday, so they got the first one to come in early the day after.  Judy explained to Nick that the clearly hung-over Judge Capra, a wizened mountain goat with exceptionally narrow eyesight and the glasses to match, set Woodlore’s bail at fifty grand. 

“Why so low?  There’s a confession.”  Nick managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice – barely.

Judy sighed, so loudly that her breath on the line tickled Nick’s ear.  “Even at that rate, Woodlore shouldn’t have been able to make bail, so we thought it would be fine,” she said, “but a half hour ago, a relative or someone called the station and paid out.  Woodlore was released on his own recognizance, accompanied by his lawyer.”

“His lawyer?  Who?”

“Winifred Ioreksen.  Ever heard of her?”

“Assuming she’s a grizzly.”

“No, black bear.  Kind of small, but well-dressed.”

Nick assumed Judy had reached a similar conclusion that he did, with that description.  Grizzlies working in tandem weren’t unheard of, but the different subspecies of bears didn’t typically work well together.  Not long ago, though, right after Nick had gone to the academy, senior ZPD officers had worked with ZBI agents to take down a smuggling ring, and the lawyers on that case had been black bears.

And one of them may have had the unique-sounding name of Ioreksen.

Nick hung up as he walked into the station; Judy stood by Clawhauser’s desk, doing the same.  He walked up to her, feeling a bit wary after their disagreement the night before.  Going by Judy’s pinched, tired look, Nick figured she was feeling the same.

“We cool, Carrots?” he asked in an undertone.

She looked up at him, and for a moment he was sure she was going to tell him no, and would berate him right there in a loud voice about trusting her and trusting their team.  But that moment passed, and she nodded.

The truth was, Nick’s doubts had eaten at Judy overnight.  She knew that Woodlore’s processing had gone too quickly, too smoothly.  She didn’t want to say anything about it yet; there was more to do on the Kelly case, and now with Woodlore out on bail, they needed to focus on evidence.

They walked up to roll call together, listening vaguely to Bogo’s summation of events, given primarily for everyone who’d been out the night before.  But both Judy and Nick snapped to attention as Bogo assigned McHorn and Del Gato to a beat keeping an eye on the grizzly.

“Hopps, Wilde, you’re on street beat in Savannah Central.  Alright, everyone, get to work.”

Judy made a beeline for Bogo, not waiting for Nick.

“Sir,” she started.

He kept walking, speaking over his shoulder.  “Don’t bother, Hopps.  I know you want the grizzly beat.  Patience is a great virtue, and you’ll need it if you make detective.”

He went into his office and shut the door.

Judy’s foot was thumping a mile a minute, and when Nick came up behind her, she jumped.

“Brussels sprouts, Nick! Don't _do_ that!”

Nick made a face.  “Yuck.  You can’t use a tastier vegetable for your cursing?”

She glared at him.  “The cherry-chapstick beat today.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t seem too disappointed.”

“Well, Carrots,” he said.  “That’s because I happen to know what we might find in Savannah Central.”

-

“McHorn and Del Gato are probably already watching this place.  Why should we even bother, Nick?”

Judy put the cruiser in park and killed the engine.  She turned to Nick see what he was thinking; she was trying to get his tells down, and wasn’t making much progress.

“Come on, Carrots.  McHorn’s Bogo’s number two.”

“And?”

Nick turned to look Judy full in the face.  This could go badly, he knew.  He wanted to make sure they were on the level, physically, even if she refused to meet him any other way. 

“And.  Judy,” he said, voice level, as even as he could make it, “something is fishy.  Something stinks.  Bogo on the scene at the pawn shop.  The prints last night, the confession.  I can’t…I can’t put it all together, not yet.  But what is the chief’s interest in Kelly’s case that makes it so open-and-shut?”

“I…Nick, come on!  You’re being paranoid.  Some cases...justice can be open-and-shut sometimes!  Sometimes things _are_  black and white.”

“It isn’t about that.”

“Isn’t it?  You got too used to everything, everyone having an angle, working a hustle, and…”

Nick was taken aback, and he knew it was written all over his face.  But Judy pushed.

“You’re still pissed at yourself over the taser.  Nick, you made the right call.”

“This is not about that, Carrots.”

“Oh, Nick…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head.  “This is not about that.  I’m not trying to atone; I’m not looking for more when there is nothing.  Carrots, you have to know me better than that by now.”

They sat there, each silently evaluating the other.  Judy wanted Nick to be wrong; she wanted it with everything she had.  Planting evidence, coercing confession, that wasn’t justice.  They were supposed to be the good guys, right?

And Nick didn’t want to be right.  He wanted Judy’s faith in the system, in authority.  Truth, justice, and all that jazz.

He shook it off and pressed on.  “This should be our beat, right?  Or at least Fangmeyer’s, he had a better claim on Woodlore since he was the arresting officer last night.  McHorn should be uptown, or at the station, or anywhere, just not here.”

Judy rubbed her face.  She was exhausted, and she really did not want to fight.  They’d been assigned a similar beat to McHorn’s and Del Gato’s – that should be enough to satisfy Nick.  If anything went wrong, they’d know about it and could be on the scene quickly.

 “Look, we were assigned Savannah Central, and we’re here, and they were assigned Woodlore’s tail.  The Ioreksen firm is just up the street; let’s work the beat, do our jobs.  They’re here doing theirs and if we overlap, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Nick knew from her tone that this was the closest he would get to a capitulation for now.  He agreed, and they strapped on their weapons and climbed out of the cruiser.

It was nearly noon, and the winter chill was broken slightly by exceptionally bright sunshine, the benefit of a day in the savannah district.  There was a fair amount of foot traffic on the drag; Judy and Nick spent most of their time monitoring for shoplifters, each with an ear tuned to their walkies for any calls.  It was nearing lunch time, so they went for sandwiches at a deli across the street from the building the Ioreksen firm used. 

They took seats at the window, both distracted as they kept an eye on the comings and goings around them.  Judy was looking for McHorn’s cruiser.

“Think they’re somewhere on a break?”

Nick followed her gaze to the building across the way.  “Likely.  Or Woodlore’s on the move, maybe back home or something.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes.  The morning had taken it out of Judy, though the food was helping.  Her sandwich polished off and half a glass of tea gulped down, she was definitely feeling more like herself, and decided it was time to extend an olive branch.

“Nick, do you really think there’s something more than just a rush for justice going on with all this?”

Nick stopped chewing and looked at her.  She was in earnest, not picking a fight; he could always tell when she was sincere, by the way her eyes opened wide, her face shone.  And she was hesitant, just a little, like she was afraid he’d fight her, or worse, walk off.

He swallowed and nodded. “It’s probably nothing.  It’s probably all on the up and up.  But there’s something weird, even if it’s just bending the rules a little.”

No, no, it was more, and he knew it, and Judy knew what he meant.  But she took him at his word for now, eyes shining.  She was willing to hear him out, and when they had a little time later, he’d explain and she would listen.

They finished lunch, and started the walk again, making two rounds before they came back up to the door of the Ioreksen building.

 “Help!  Help!”

Standing just outside the deli where they’d had lunch was a gaudily-dressed female zebra, pointing up at something, positively frantic.

“He’s going to jump!  Somebody HELP!”

Judy followed the woman’s line of sight and grabbed Nick’s arm.

“Woodlore!”

Judy ran into the building, and Nick radioed immediately for back-up.  He looked wildly up and down the street – McHorn’s cruiser was nowhere to be seen.

He wanted to follow Judy inside, every instinct told him he should.  But he hesitated, and that’s how he ended up witnessing Woodlore’s gruesome death first hand.

The bear jumped –witnesses would argue over that, did he jump or was he pushed – and the zebra screamed for real, piercing and long.  The bear made no sound at all until he hit the pavement.  It was fortunate no bystanders were injured; the bear was so big and heavy, the concrete around the body cracked in spider web fashion.

Nick pushed back the crowd, urging people to turn away.  He shouted into his walkie for Judy, and again for back-up and for an ambulance.  Clawhauser’s voice came back saying a unit was en route. 

A cruiser with lights and sirens blaring pulled up to the curb, and out stepped McHorn and Del Gato.

Nick stared in disbelief.  “That was fast.”

“We were close,” said Del Gato.  “Just went down the road for a snack when your call came over.”

“Where’s Hopps?” said McHorn, who was moving to block public view of the body with his own bulk. 

“Inside.  She went inside when he was on the ledge, to try and talk him down.”

McHorn nodded.  “Should be back by now, yeah?”

Nick wasted no time then, his own concern voiced aloud.  Ambulance sirens blared as one approached, but Nick didn’t wait for it.  He ran inside the building and up the stairs, calling Judy’s name.

“Hopps!  HOPPS!”

Nothing.  The elevator was open and not responding; he ran to the stairs, taking them two and three at a time at a dead sprint.  She wasn’t on the second floor, either, and not responding.

“ _JUDY_!”

He went to the third, fourth floors.  And there in the stairwell was Judy, clutching her head and moaning.

“Quit yelling, fox,” she whispered.  She looked up at him, relief flooding them both at the sight of each other.  “I hear ya.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Wilde, come on in,” said Bogo. 

Nick paused for a moment in the doorway; Bogo had his back to Nick, walking to his desk, and Nick needed a second to compose himself.  The afternoon had been insane, dealing with the incident report paperwork and the crush of press that had descended on the scene. 

And Judy was at the hospital.  Nick had had to leave her there; it wasn’t serious, they said, she’d be going home, but the only thing Nick could think about was the dazed look in her eyes, and the certainty Nick felt that had he been a little quicker, a little more decisive….

“We’re closing the case, Wilde.”

Nick looked up, startled.  “I’m sorry, sir?  Closing it?”

“We have a signed confession, and there’s more.  Forensics came back with this report this morning.” He handed Nick a folder.  “It appears there was no physical evidence that a second grizzly was on the scene of the Kelly murder.  The initial report was erroneous.”

Mystified, Nick thumbed through the report.  “Why was there a second test run?”

“S.O.P., Wilde, on a homicide.  You know that from your training.”

Nick nodded vaguely, not quite taking it all in.  Just hours ago, he’d watched helplessly as their suspect – a living, breathing mammal – took a suicidal dive out of an eight-story building.  He’d found his partner, wounded and shaking, in a _stairwell_ , unable to tell him exactly what had happened to her. 

Bogo took the folder and motioned to Nick that he should sit down.

“All we have is your eyewitness account of a second suspect, and right now, everything we have points to Woodlore, including his confession, which more or less seals the deal.  The district attorney won’t pursue a case against a second suspect without physical evidence to corroborate, so we’re closing the case.”

“Sir, we know what we saw that night,” said Nick, coming back to himself a bit.  “There were two grizzlies, and there’s no way of knowing which one pulled the trigger.  There’s more to this; Kelly, he was into…things.  Criminal things. I think there’s more to this that meets the eye.”

Bogo sighed.  “Wilde, enough.”  He leaned forward, hooves on the desk.  “I recognize your…unique perspective here.  Maybe Malcolm Kelly was dabbling in things he shouldn’t have.  That’s plausible.  Not a reason to pursue a case against a phantom suspect with nothing physical to back it up, especially against a signed confession.”

“What if whatever Kelly was involved with warrants further investigation?  Sir, there is more going on here.”

“Are you going to tell me your ‘instincts’ have you questioning my authority now, Wilde?  The case is closed.  Now,” Bogo stood up, “you and Hopps are taking a week’s administrative leave.  She may need medical leave, but we’ll wait to see what her doctors think. In the meantime, you witnessed a horrible tragedy today, and the pressure has certainly been higher on the both of you than usual.  And I know what you’re going to say,” he said as Nick opened his mouth to protest.  “There was no weapons discharge, no altercation with the suspect, nothing like that.  But I have my officers’ mental health to consider as well, Wilde, not to mention A.R.’s inevitable irritability.  Take this as the kindness it is almost meant as.”

Bogo’s speech had its intended effect; Nick neither wanted to say anything at this point or felt like it was necessary.  He wasn’t happy, of course, and fired off a mocking salute at the chief while turning to walk out.  He did know a dismissal when one was given.

-

“Nick, I’m fine.  There’s nothing wrong with me other than a bump on the head.”

Nick had insisted that Judy come back to his apartment; it was closer to the hospital, and less noisy with no Bucky or Pronk on the other side of a thin wall.  Once she was settled on the couch (a grudging compromise on Nick’s behalf), Nick brought out a tray of Judy’s favorite foods, including the tomato-carrot juice she knew he couldn’t even stand the smell of.  He set it on a table in front of her and stood back.

Judy watched him, curious about this side of her partner.  He was frowning, tail twitching.  He was restless and worried, traits she hardly ever saw him display.  Ignoring the food for the moment, as much because she was queasy as anything, she pulled the blanket he’d given her tighter around herself, and waved at the seat next to her.

“Come on, Nick.  Sit down.  I’m not going anywhere.”

He did sit, gingerly, trying not to shake the cushions.  Judy almost laughed at him; since picking her up at the hospital, he’d been like this.  The doctor had told them Judy should remain quiet and still, an admonishment Judy was used to in times of injury, knowing the doctors knew such an order for a bunny like her was all but useless.  And this was just a bump on the head, not even a concussion.  She could take pain meds, sleep it off, and be fine in a day or two.

Nick’s face was so serious, though.  She wondered why this of all things had shaken him so badly, and she was about to ask when he started talking.

“Carrots, they’ve closed the Kelly case.”

She blinked, in unconscious imitation of Nick’s earlier reaction to Bogo’s telling him this same thing.  “What?  Why?”

Nick explained, voice laced with sarcasm and weary irritation. 

“I know what we saw,” said Judy, indignant as Nick finished the explanation.  “There were two bears, and we have no way of knowing who shot at us, much less who pulled the trigger on Kelly.”

“The confession seems to have done the deal.”

“So that’s it.  Justice is satisfied because a grizzly jumped off a building.”  Her head was pounding through the medication. 

Nick nodded, his frown as deep as ever.  Judy sighed heavily and leaned back against the cushions.  “I guess that’s it.”

Nick’s ears stood straight up in surprise.  “It?”

“There’s no way we’d be able to pursue this one without resources of the ZPD, Nick.  We can’t just go rogue because we want to.”

“That’s hardly the Judy Hopps I know,” he said, but there was no bite in it.  Nick appeared as resigned as Judy felt.  Somehow, that hurt more.

“Nick…”

“No, I get it.  I do.  And frankly, even if there is something to this, fluff, I don’t want to watch you get hurt while we chase it down.”

Now it was Judy’s turn for surprise.  She watched Nick’s expression finally change from the tight frustration to softer care.  He wasn’t looking at her, but down at his paws in his lap.  She stayed as still as she could, hardly breathing.

“Twice we’ve been in pursuit of these guys, and twice I…you…twice things go bad.”

The fur had already grown back from the bullet graze, and Judy hardly had a bruise to go with the bump on the head.  She’d been injured worse, they’d been through worse. 

“This is the job, Nick,” she said softly.

He barked a low laugh.  “Yeah, this is the job.  Carrots, that bullet.  That bullet.  You’ve been hurt, sure, I’ve been hurt, but we never cheated death like that.”  His voice broke over the last, and he finally looked up at Judy.

She reached out and put her paw on his. 

“I am not going anywhere, Nick Wilde.”

They sat there for a long time, taking in what was passing between them in silence.  Judy finally fell asleep, and Nick would not leave her side, succumbing to his own exhaustion sometime later.

-

The sharp knock at the apartment door badly rattled Nick.  He jumped up, paw going to his hip where his holster would usually be.  Judy woke as well, though less sharply; she was groggy from the meds and a headache.  They looked at each other, neither saying a word.

“Mr. Wilde.  This is Kevin.”

Kevin.  Mr. Big’s Kevin?

Judy nodded at Nick, who grabbed his gun from where he’d left it on the counter the night before.  “Coming,” he called out, walking softly so he could hear any moves on the other side of the door. 

He peered through the peephole and saw Kevin was alone.  He nodded at Judy and let in their visitor. 

Kevin was dressed as impeccably as any of Big’s employees usually were, though he was clearly hurried and harassed.  He held out an envelope to Nick, who took it with a confused look.

“Can’t just tell me, can you?”

Kevin didn’t say a word in response.

Nick read the note, eyes widening, and brought it over to Judy.

Seeing what Big or someone close to him had written, Judy motioned to Nick to help her stand up.  “Guess I need to get dressed.”

-

They rode in the back of one of Big’s cars, one of those dark cars meant to be so inconspicuous and yet so imposing at the same time.  Jerry Vole crooned from the speakers.  The day was bright, harsh winter light despite the Zootopian climate controls, though it was quite subdued through the tinted, reportedly bulletproof windows.

If Zootopia was cold throughout because winter demanded hi s due in spite of science, Tundratown was ice itself.  Just crossing the border, Judy felt the chill in a deeper part of herself than she did anywhere else.  The mood certainly wasn’t helped by the change in temperature.  She shivered, clenching her teeth hard to keep from making noise, and noticed Nick doing the same.

They arrived at Big’s place after a few detours.  It was plain that Kevin was driving to avoid a tail; Judy knew this was standard procedure for the crime boss’ people, but it seemed unusually excessive on Kevin’s part. 

They were led inside, to a room artificially warmed, presumably in anticipation of their arrival.  Warm drinks were provided, and Nick made a wary face at all the hospitality.  Big had grown to love Judy and tolerate Nick, though they made a point of spending as little time in his company as possible; it was always coincidental, through Judy’s connection to Fru Fru.  They had only come to the mansion in Tundratown one other time, and their reception had been somewhat different then. 

Colder, Nick thought, and smirked.

They didn’t have to wait long for the shrew’s appearance.  Big came in through a small door on the bookcase, forgoing his usual pomp and ceremony.  He climbed up the table where the refreshments had been provided.

“I am sorry for the covert manner of this meeting, friends.  I trust you were treated civilly.”

His voice was strained, tired.  Judy frowned down at him.

“We were.  Your note said you needed to see us immediately, Mr. Big.  Can we…what is this in reference to?”

“Don’t you know?  It has consumed you and the ZPD for weeks now, after all.”

“Do you know something about Kelly’s murder, Mr. Big?” said Nick, knowing he may be touching a live wire with the question.

“Kelly was an incidental casualty.  You have bigger fish to fry, all right under your noses.”

Nick wasn’t expecting that.  “What do you know, then?”

Big sighed and turned around, shaking his head.  “You know some of your colleagues are not as honorable as Miss Hopps, Nicky.  You know some of them have…side interests.”

Judy’s eyes widened impossibly at this, and she looked between Big and Nick, disbelieving.  Nick put a paw on her arm, signaling that her questions would have to wait.   “Yes, I know.”

He hadn’t, really.  But he suspected.

“You remember Mick Riordan.  Or, you have heard about him.  His operation was so intricate, so involved.  There was nothing in Zootopian government he didn’t have a paw on,” Big sighed, not enviously, but in pity.  “Worse, he trafficked in goods long forbidden.”

“Pheromones,” said Nick, and again Judy looked at him, incredulous.  “Night howlers.”

“Those, and he sold prey.”

Nick hesitated, but nodded.  He knew such a market existed, but never had seen it in action.  Judy knew, too, but in an academic sense; in her time on the force, there hadn’t been an arrest or even a case involving prey trafficking. 

“Riordan got too ambitious, really.  He had enemies.  More enemies than allies, in the end.  His death was a mercy for this city, or it would have been.”

“Would have been?”

Big turned around and faced them once more.  “His empire was out there for the taking.  Malcolm Kelly knew that, as did his partner.”  Big walked over so that he was standing square in front of Nick.  “Riordan is dead, Mr. Wilde.  So is Malcolm Kelly.”

Judy spoke up then.  “How do we know you haven’t taken over any of this for yourself?”

“Carrots!”

Big looked over at her.  “You are bold, Miss Hopps, you know that.  For the sake of my daughter and my granddaughter, I will choose to ignore the question.”

He looked back at Nick.  “But your partner is right, in a way.  The question actually should be, how do you know Kelly’s partner hasn’t taken over any of this for himself?”

Whatever warmth had existed vanished as Nick realized what Big was saying.   “But who was Kelly’s partner?”

Big shook his head.  “You know, Nicky.  You know.”

With that, Big hopped off the table and walked toward his little door.  “A shame about that grizzly.  He worked for me, once.  He was a pallbearer for Grandmama, rest her soul.  In the end, though,” and he turned back once more to look at Judy and Nick, for effect, “I couldn’t pay him enough to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay; I was out of town, and didn't expect to be out of pocket so long. Next part will come in the next two days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty major edit made to this chapter's ending. In writing the subsequent chapters, I realized I boxed myself in pretty significantly, and needed to shift the order of events so that everything would flow well. I know I've had a lot of readers up to this point, so I hope this isn't too disruptive. Thank you all for reading!

Judy pushed past Nick as they entered his apartment.  She sat down on the couch and opened her purse, fished around until she found the prescription bottle. 

“Are you going to tell me what Mr. Big thinks you already know, slick?”

Judy was not a sarcastic bunny, under usual circumstances.  Nick stood back after locking the door; he’d known this conversation, when it happened, would be rough.  Her tone told him he’d been dead on the money.

Judy dry-swallowed a dose of her pain meds and folded her paws together.  “Nick, talk to me.  What don’t I know?  Was Big telling us Bogo is behind all this?  Why would the chief of police be behind two, maybe three, murders?  Just for the sake of a criminal empire?  It makes no sense.  What do you know?” She was talking fast, nervous.  “ _Nick!  What do you know?_ ”

He shook his head and his paws as he came toward her at last.  “Carrots, come on, calm down already.  Look, we have to talk.  I have things to say.  But let’s get this out of the way first.  I don’t know everything going on here.  I have suspicions.  Big was giving us clues and he knows more than we do.  All I can do, all _we_ can do, is investigate.  That’s our job, right?”

Judy took a deep breath, clearly ready to say more.  Nick cut her off by sitting next to her, putting a paw on her arm. 

“We have a job to do, fluff.  Let’s do it.”

Judy closed her eyes.  “Tell me what you know, Nick,” she whispered.

It was Nick’s turn to sigh, deeply, and he crossed his arms.  He looked up at the ceiling and began to talk.

“You know how I was making a living before we met.  I’ve told you before, what you caught me doing was kitten’s play, and I’d done worse.  I was into pheromones when I was younger, selling much more than doing.  There was good money in it for awhile. That was how I knew Malcolm Kelly.  Mainly by reputation; I don’t think I ever actually met him.  But when he retired from ZPD he had a reputation in some circles for going a bit bigger than pheromones.  Night howlers, tranks, just bigger and badder drugs.”

Judy nodded.  “I’ve gathered that much in the weeks since his murder.  It still seems like the best motive, too.  Maybe Kelly had gotten involved with the wrong people, sold someone short, anything like that.”

“I thought that, too, at first.  But you know, there was talk, a lot of it, that Kelly’d gotten into prey trafficking.  Sex, hunting.  As bad as you can imagine.”

Judy shuddered.  “An ex-cop into the worst vices.  I can’t imagine, as it happens.”

“Carrots, there are always worse things and worse people.”

Nick stood up, his back to Judy.  He paced a little, stopping to look out the window.  “We don’t come across very bad guys very often, even doing what we do.  There was Bellwether, and that drug smuggler we took down a couple of months ago.  We’ve seen, what, four murders, total, since we’ve been together…working together?”  He looked back at Judy, who was confused.  He shook his head, stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Malcolm Kelly had enemies, had to have, doing what he did.  I have plenty myself and I was into small shit.  Big wanted us to know something much worse is happening than a couple of grizzly thugs acting on their own at random.”

He turned back to look out the window. 

“Bogo was Kelly’s partner when they took down Riordan.  Did you know that?”

Judy cleared her throat.  “It was in Kelly’s files, yes.”

“Okay, and Big thinks Riordan was taken down by someone who stood to gain from his empire’s collapse.  Maybe someone who could pick up the pieces and rebuild.”

“And you both think that someone is Bogo, is that what you’re saying?”  Judy’s voice rose sharply.

He spun around.  “Damn it, Judy, keep it down already!”

“No.  No!  Nick, come on, this is…couldn’t Kelly have been trying to take over Riordan’s business and just finally paid a price from Riordan’s old loyalists?  Don’t you think it’s possible that it was Kelly?  Bogo could have seen where the call was coming from and known his old partner was involved, maybe he wanted to be there to save him, or something.”  She didn’t sound at all confidant.  She sounded desperate, and it tore at Nick.

“Look, there’s more to it than that.  There has to be.”  He sat down again, trying to look Judy in the face, so she would understand how serious he was about this.  “The thing about Kelly…he wasn’t ever very good at hiding what he did.  You’d think a former cop would have some savvy, but no.  You want a motive? I keep coming back to the idea that maybe he was about to talk.  Maybe he knew something.  And the way Woodlore was handled – it was total crap, right from the beginning, and I think someone at ZPD is trying to keep anyone from digging too deep.”

Judy sat with her head in her paws.  They were quiet for a moment, and it was broken by a sob coming from Judy.

“Carrots…”

“All I ever wanted was to help people, Nick.”

“I know.”

“I don’t believe any of this.”

“I know.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “I don’t want to believe it either.”

She hiccupped softly, and tears began to fall harder.  Nick reached over to touch her arm, and she moved closer.  He rubbed her back.

“The thing is, Nick,” she said at last, her voice rough.  “The thing is, I think you want to believe.  I think you want everyone to have a dark side, secrets to keep.”

He pulled back, watching her, searching her face.  “Do you really think that?  You think I want Bogo, who has given us both a chance, to be a criminal?  A murderer, an extortionist?  You think I want to _believe_ those things?” 

He huffed in disgust and stood up, not giving her a chance to respond.  He looked back just once before walking out, right at Judy, whose sobs were back with a vengeance, and he said to her:

“Judy, since I met you, all I’ve ever wanted is to believe what you believe.  That everyone has good intentions, that the world can be made better if we just try harder.  I don’t want to see anyone’s dark side, I don’t want that to exist.  I believe, if you do.”

He walked out, and closed the door.

-

Judy stared at the door, and willed Nick to come back.

She couldn’t move.  She didn’t want to.  She believed what she said – that Nick was looking for demons where there were none, that his inherent mistrust of authority had finally gotten the better of him.  She didn’t believe Bogo could be behind of any of this.

_Or did she?_

That first night, Bogo on the scene before anyone, McHorn in tow.  The prints that were matched before they could have conceivably been completed.  The forensics report, the case closing and none of what she and Nick had seen taken into account for further investigation.

Her head pounded.  The meds were taking their time. 

Woodlore’s suicide.

Judy thought back to that afternoon, in the stairwell.  It was hard to see it clearly.  She’d been running, shouting, trying to get the attention of the grizzly or even someone who could get to him before she did.  And she’d tripped.  She’d fallen back down three or four stairs, knocking her head on the concrete.

And someone had been in that stairwell with her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her paws against them.  “Think, Hopps.  _Think_.”

Someone huge, at least compared to her.  No fur or feathers.  A horn.

A rhino. 

McHorn.  _Gerald McHorn_.

Had he tripped her, pushed her?  Was he there for the reasons she was?

No.  Judy knew it.  She had to accept it. 

“Nick!” she said, and remembered, he was gone.  She got up and ran out the door.

-

It was cold, so cold, and Judy had left her coat back at the apartment.  Thankfully, Nick hadn’t gotten far, and looked in fact as though he’d been coming back himself.  He was panting slightly, as though he’d been running, and Judy knew she was as well.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison, and Judy ducked her head down, laughing a little.

“I don’t know why I walked out,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.  “I was being stubborn.  And I was wrong.  Nick, in the stairwell.  In the stairwell, someone, I think it may have been McHorn….”

“Cripes,” Nick muttered.  “How?  He was in the squad car with Del Gato.”

“Must have been parked behind the building, then.  Quick escape, quicker cover.”

“Judy…”

“Let’s go back.”

They walked back in silence, much more comfortable than any they’d experienced that day so far.  Once inside, Nick didn’t hesitate; he took Judy in his arms and held her tight.

“He could have…”

“He didn’t.”  Her voice was muffled, her face buried in Nick’s chest.  He loosened his grip so she could look up at him.  “Nick, he didn’t, and I’m here.  And you’re right.  Something is wrong.”

“You could be right, too,” he said, and Judy shook her head.  “No.  The facts are there, just as you say.  I didn’t want to think about it too hard, I didn’t want anything but justice.  And I still do, but I want it for everyone involved.  Whatever that means.”

Judy’s passion laced her voice, her eyes shone with it.  And Nick was taken aback by the force of it. 

So he kissed her.

Judy was surprised, but she didn’t jump away or pull back.  She closed her eyes and leaned in.

Nick broke it off first.  “I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time.”

Judy chuckled.  “And you wait until we have a fight so bad it made you walk out of your own apartment?”

“I was coming back, you know.”

“Mmm.”  She looked up, meeting his gaze.  “I’m glad you did it.”

“Good,” he said, and he kissed her again.

Finally, they went back over to the couch and sat down, postures more relaxed than before, closer together than they would usually dare to sit.  There was a lot to talk about; Judy felt every emotion competing for control as she could hardly keep from smiling and wanted to cry all at once.  Nick felt no less overwhelmed, and he couldn’t stop touching Judy’s face or her ears or her hands, as if reassuring himself. 

Judy was the first to find composure, and bring them back to the matter at hand.  Still holding on to Nick’s paws, not even considering what she was doing, she cleared her throat and got his attention.

“We have to figure out what to do, Nick.”

He wanted so badly to play coy and flirt with her, but one look at her face told him it would have to wait.

“Do we have any access while on leave?”

She shook her head.  “Our badges are even at the station.  We couldn’t so much as question witnesses.”

“Legally.”

“What?”

“We couldn’t so much as question witnesses _legally_.”

“Everyone we want to talk to is a cop, genius.”

“That can’t be entirely true.  Don’t you have copies of the notes from the investigation into Kelly’s murder?”

Judy’s ears perked up.  “Some, yes.  And my recorder.”  She picked up her purse from the floor and dug around, bringing out a familiar carrot pen.  “I’ve been dictating my notes as we go,” she said, blushing a little.  Nick shrugged and laughed at her.

“You think I didn’t know you talk to yourself at night, Carrots?”

“Shut up,” she said.  She then pulled out her notebook, flipped through it.  “I don’t have much.  We weren’t making a lot of progress before the shooting at the Veiled Swan.”

“I think we need to go back to looking for the second grizzly.”

“You think forensics was wrong?”

Nick nodded.  “Of course I do.  I know what I saw.”

Judy agreed.

They talked about their next course of action for awhile, coming back again and again to the same point.  There had been no Jam Cams active in the area the night of Kelly’s murder, so they had only their own memories to go by.  The case had never been turned over to vice, so all the notes were housed within their division.  The other cops assigned to the task force had likewise found very little; no witnesses turned up in a door-to-door search (indeed, hardly anyone had been within shouting distance of the pawn shop, save Nick and Judy), none of Kelly’s known acquaintances had seen him that day.  The case really did seem to begin and end with Humphrey Woodlore.

“Should we bring in anyone else?” said Judy as their increasingly circular conversation finally began to wind down.

Nick shook his head.  “Who would believe us?  What’s more, Big indicated that there were more than a few dirty cops at ZPD.”

“Trust no one, then?” Judy’s voice cracked a bit, and Nick pulled her close.

“We can trust us, fluff.  We can trust each other.”

-

Eventually, they’d fallen asleep on the couch, Judy curled up in Nick’s lap.  Their new intimacy wasn’t stretching the boundaries too far; this had happened a few times, usually during nights spent going over or recovering from a case. 

But they’d never gone to sleep together after kissing, so that was new. 

Judy woke up first; even on pain meds, she was more of a morning person than her partner by a long stretch.  She took the quiet moment and used it, taking him in.

Nick’s face was more relaxed than she ever remembered seeing it.  In fact, she thought, this had to be what he’d looked like as a kit.  The lines were softer around his eyes, his mouth. 

Sleep came hard for Nick, she knew, and when it did, it usually left him frowning, fighting something or someone in his dreams.  She’d seen it a few times, more than was probably normal for just a work colleague.  Of course, they’d been more than colleagues, even before he became her partner.  It was easier to see that now.

Nick stretched and yawned, and Judy was absolutely certain now that he’d looked just this way in his childhood.  It broke her heart a little, and she felt herself fall a little harder.

 _Every day_ , she thought.  _I want to see that every day, for the rest of my life_.

Aloud, she said, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Nick blinked and stretched again.  “Mrrmph,” he said.  Judy laughed.

“I’ll make coffee.”  She got down and made her way into the kitchen.

-

Technically, Judy was still on doctor’s orders to take it easy, and so technically, she obeyed them.  She and Nick stayed in the apartment, ordering out for food and talking over the case or stopped to kiss and stare stupidly at each other on occasion.  There really was very little they could do for the moment anyway.

It was a long day, and Nick got restless as it wore on.  Mid-afternoon, he leaned over to kiss Judy’s nose.

“I think I need to take a walk.  Come with me?”

Judy wanted to, but had to admit, her doctors had a point.  Her head was aching from just thinking about what to do next, and she was tired.

“I think I need a nap, frankly.”

Nick nodded.  “You’re going to need to be on your game.” 

Judy smirked.  “Why, whatever for?” she said coyly, and Nick’s face lit up in response.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that, Miss Hopps, but if you insist….”

She laughed, trying to keep the blush from her face, and waved a little as he walked out the door.  She waited to hear the locks turn then went into the bedroom.

Surely it was better for her health to stretch out on Nick’s bed, she thought, and snuggled down into the blankets.

-

Judy awoke to a dark room.  It was disorienting; she wasn’t sure for a moment where she was, much less what time it was.

The sheets smelled like Nick, so that brought her around enough to remember it was his room.  She reached over, wondering if he’d come to join her, and quickly realized he hadn’t.  The sheets were cold where she hadn’t been laying.

“Nick?” she called out, looking around for a clock.  It was on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and she had to crane her neck to see.  It was nearly seven in the evening.  She’d slept for what, four hours?  More?  She climbed out of the bed, stretching as she went.  Her head didn’t hurt as badly; she must have needed the sleep. 

Nick was on the couch in the living room, watching a rerun of an old black and white western Judy didn't recognize.  His head was bent, and she couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

"Nick?" she said, and he jumped.  

"Jeez, fluff, give a fox a heart attack!"

She chuckled a bit as she sat down next to him.  "Sorry," she said. 

He shrugged and settled back down.  He bent to pick something up off the floor.  Judy frowned; it was a slightly yellowed newspaper clipping, attached to what appeared to be a note.

"What is that?"

"This?  This is a newspaper article. Zootopia Gazette."

"I can see that.  What does the note say?"

He sighed and handed it to her.  She squinted at the handwriting, and read it aloud.  "Wilde - careful where you step."

The clipping was of an article published fifteen years ago.  It wasn't a front page story, no blaring headline with it.  The photo was grainy and amateurish, as though the newspaper had simply gone with a submission from a rudimentary cell phone camera.  

The caption for the photo read "Promotion ceremony for Zootopia Police detectives Malcolm Kelly and Geoffrey Bogo."

Judy stared at it for several beats before going on to read the article itself.  It was a fluff piece about ZPD officers' bravery in the line of duty, but how these promotions were routine.  It was a process story.  Nowhere did it mention whether Kelly and Bogo were partners, anything about the cases they worked on, nothing.  And the date was a good two or three years before the now-fabled Riordan takedown.

"I don't get it," she said in a low tone.  "Where did this come from?"

"It was slipped under the door.  Maybe an hour ago.  I wouldn't have noticed it except I was going to go out and grab some dinner for us."

The clipping had kept him from leaving, clearly, thought Judy.  She noticed now how tense Nick was, how disturbed.  She put a paw on his; he felt cold, and remote.

"You know who left it."

"Do I know that?  Let me see.  I suspect I know.  I suspect a lot of things here, Judy."  His tone was hard and she flinched.  "Someone knows what we know, and they want to scare us off.  That's...I don't like this.  What's next?"  He reached out and touched her cheek.  "They want us to stop," he said, voice considerably softer.  "What does that mean?"

Judy leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.  

When she opened them again, Nick was leaning in, and she met him halfway for a kiss.  It was a sweet, soft kiss, the kind Judy always figured were a myth.  Nick broke away first, as his stomach growled loudly.  He mumbled something about still needing that dinner, and she laughed as he reached for his phone to order delivery.

She settled back into the couch, still holding the clipping.  She looked down at it, frowning, trying to decide what step they should take - investigate this further, independently?  Or go straight to Bogo and demand answers?  

She turned it over in her paw, noticing more print, wondering idly what other story had been running that day fifteen years ago.  And a name leapt from the text.

Gerald McHorn.

More.  Officer-involved shooting.  Riordan captains in the Rainforest District.  

"Nick."

He hung up with the pizza joint.  "It's going to be about thirty minutes, hope that's alright," he said, and then he looked up at Judy.  "Carrots?"

"Look."

She shoved the clipping at him, and she didn't even have to point out what she'd read.  Nick's eyes widened, and he let out a loud curse.

"Well, fuck."

Judy couldn't have agreed more.

 


End file.
